


The Strangest of the Strange

by RattyCatty



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Closeted Character, Coming Out, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Fluff, Homosexuality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 23:15:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3429116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RattyCatty/pseuds/RattyCatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or '4 times Morgana is gay as hell and in the closet and 1 time she's simply gay as hell'. Morgana has spent her life hiding who she is. Eventually, she finds her place with a bunch of mismatched idiots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Strangest of the Strange

**Author's Note:**

> A slightly confused gay pride 4+1 fanfic. [Puts grubby queer little hands all over favourite characters] The title comes from Garbage's "Queer" which you should give a listen if you've got a chance, because it's great.
> 
> Predominantly Morgana/Gwen, but contains Morgana/Vivian, Morgana/OC, and Merlin/Arthur.
> 
> Warnings: Mildly suggestive stuff. A lot of homosexuality.
> 
> All mistakes are mine and feedback is greatly appreciated. Enjoy!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own Merlin (but I do own little Evelyn).

The first time Morgana feels some vague form of attraction is when she's seven. It's nothing serious, but it's something. Morgana thinks that her best friend, Evelyn, is very pretty – she's as pretty as a princess, but not vain or pathetic like she's heard princesses often are.

They're playing in Morgana's chambers one day – they're brave, beautiful knights, armed with the mightiest of swords (made of entirely too large broom handles stolen from one of the cupboards). They slay the cruel, raging dragon that terrorises the city and escape injured but victorious.

"We did it, Morgana!" Evelyn cries from atop the bed, broomstick raised in triumph.

"We did," Morgana agrees with a wide smile, scrambling onto the bed and holding her 'sword' high. "I believe a celebration is called for, Evelyn," she says proudly. She thinks she sounds very important and strong, using the language she hears her father, Gorlois, use around his friends.

Evelyn plops down on the soft bed, crossing her legs, joined a second later by her friend. "Like what?"

Morgana thinks for a minute. "Father likes to drink with the other men to celebrate, but I think we better not." She knows how clumsy and rowdy that stuff makes all the men, and how can they be skilled warriors and slay dragons if they can't even stand up? No, they must celebrate another way.

She thinks of the other ways she's seen her father and the knights celebrate, and then an idea comes to her. Morgana kneels up and leans forward, closer to Evelyn. Evelyn giggles shyly, but doesn't move away.

Morgana presses her lips to Evelyn's cheek, and then sits back on her heels.

"Morgana?" Evelyn asks softly, blushing.

"The knights like to kiss pretty girls when they celebrate. I've seen it," Morgana tells her in a matter-of-fact voice.

"You think I'm pretty?"

Morgana briefly wonders how Evelyn could think she isn't pretty. She nods. "Very."

Evelyn blushes a deeper shade of pink and smiles sheepishly. "Very well, then." She leans closer to her friend. "I think you're very pretty, too." Then she kisses Morgana's cheek very gently.

That's when the door opens and Morgana's father enters to call her for dinner. He frowns a little at the sight before him, but can't bring himself to be angry at the girl; she's his only daughter, after all, and she's still a child – this probably doesn't mean anything, and there's time for her to grow into herself anyway.

"Morgana?" he asks softly from the door way. The girls part shyly, both blushing. "Would you like some dinner?"

Morgana looks at Evelyn and weighs up her options. She really would like some dinner, but she knows Evelyn probably has to go home if she says yes.

As if sensing his daughter's inner turmoil, he says kindly, "Evelyn can stay if she would like. There's more than enough for all of us."

Morgana beams. "Ok, father!"

Later, when Morgana is tucked up in bed, he strokes her silky hair. "Morgana, do you like Evelyn?"

Morgana nods. "Of course I do." What an odd thing for her father to ask.

"Do you think she's pretty?" Gorlois asks, smoothing her already-tidy hair.

The girl nods again. Her eyes are wide and confused, but she can't help but smile when she remembers their games earlier.

Her father smiles ruefully. "Morgana, some people aren't very nice to others because of who those other people choose to love."

Morgana frowns. "That's rather mean."

"I know, darling. But as you grow up, you must be careful. It's not proper for women to love other women like fathers love their wives." It hurts him to have to shoot her down, but he knows it would hurt far more to see her shunned or punished for improper behaviour. It's a necessary evil, and he hates it.

"I don't love Evelyn like you loved mother," she promises, growing more concerned. "She's just very pretty, and my best friend."

Of course she doesn't. She's just a child, after all. Gorlois forces a smile. "I know, and it's best to keep it that way, alright?" When Morgana nods, he leans down and hugs her close. "You're very grown up, do you know that? You're a very good, brave girl, and I think you're going to be even more wonderful when you're all grown up."

Morgana smiles, the lecture over, and puts her little arms as far around her father as they will go. "I love you, father," she says.

"I love you too, my brave little warrior." They stay like that for a long time, and when he lays her down and tucks her in again, she's fast asleep.

* * *

The second time is when she's thirteen. Her loving father is long gone, and has been replaced by the king himself, who is kind to her but often absent or withdrawn. He has a lot on his shoulders, and little time to spend looking after the daughter of his deceased friend.

She's been told that now she is beginning to grow up – she thought she was already rather grown up, as her father used to tell her, but apparently not – she must learn to be a proper lady. Morgana doesn't think much of this, as it mostly consists of dancing, being polite, and not speaking until one is spoken to. Her new brother, Arthur, gets to play with swords and wear funny armour, and it's not fair.

Morgana doesn't mind the dancing lessons, though. The actual dancing is rather boring, but the woman who teaches her makes up for it a little. She's beautiful, with soft, gentle hands and a sense of humour – more than the other ladies who teach her, at least.

Morgana likes her because she doesn't shout, and instead makes Morgana _want_ to do what she says; she lets Morgana choose the last dance of each lesson, and instructs her very gently. Her hands are warm, but not unpleasantly so, and not calloused like the hands of men or servants.

Morgana gets to hold those hands every lesson, and she quite likes it. Sometimes she imagines she is a sophisticated woman, dancing with a very beautiful noblewoman at a gathering. Other times, she's just Morgana dancing with her beautiful dance tutor, and that's enough.

She never acts on her attraction, however. She understands now just how much such things are frowned upon, and Morgana thinks it would be rather unpleasant to spend a week in the dungeon.

* * *

The third time is caused by too much wine at a feast and a curse. Morgana is eighteen, and there's a grand feast for all who attend the peace talks being held. Morgana spends a large portion of the evening smiling through the tiresome conversation and poor attempts at flirting of the rich but lonely men. If it was up to her, she'd throw her drink over them and be done with it. As it is, she knows there would be consequences if she were to do such a thing, and she doesn't want to waste good wine on such fools.

The rest of the evening Morgana spends accompanying the Lady Vivian. She's spoilt and rude, but also incredibly beautiful. Morgana supposes she can put up with that.

Vivian turns out to be a lot more bearable with a few goblets of wine inside her, which doesn't make much sense to Morgana, but she doesn't care to think about it too hard. They laugh at the court jester making an idiot of himself, and giggle in delight when he summons baby blue butterflies, and at the end of the night, they retire to their chambers.

At least, that's what they mean to do. Somehow, both women end up in Morgana's chambers.

It all happens so fast – it's thrilling and dangerous (because Morgana knows King Olaf will have her head if he finds out she defiled his daughter), and they're young and excitable, and it's impossible to resist.

It's safe to say Gwen gets a shock when she enters her lady's chambers the following morning to bring Morgana her breakfast. The two women – the handmaiden doesn't even allow herself to think about this, because she doesn't think her poor little brain could handle the sheer mixed emotion she knows it will ignite – are pressed tightly together in the bed. The ivory sheets are tangled around their legs in a way that's vaguely concealing (but not really), and both women are very, very naked.

Gwen thinks of just leaving the tray of food on Morgana's table and leaving, but of course, Morgana chooses that moment to awake. She groggily stretches out – Gwen's brain short-circuits at the sight of pale, creamy skin and taut muscles, and she has to look away quickly – and winces a little, before sitting up and rubbing fruitlessly at the throbbing pain in her temples.

"My lady – I'm so sorry–" Gwen stammers, wide-eyed like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

Morgana's eyes widen and her jaw drops as she spots her handmaiden standing by the door with a tray of food, looking down and around and anywhere that isn't where the two noblewomen are. "Gwen," she says, dumb-stricken. Common sense kicks in and Morgana scrambles to cover her completely bare chest and put distance between herself and Vivian – which, by the way, what the bloody hell? The princess is irritating at best, and the king's ward has no idea how she ended up in bed with her.

"Oh dear lord," Gwen mumbles. She sets the tray down on the nearest flat surface and flees with another mumbled apology.

Morgana drops her head into her hands before straightening up and looking at Vivian's sleeping form. _Dear god._

/

Later on in the day, when Vivian is safely out of Morgana's chambers, Gwen returns with a flagon of water and a brew of Gaius' that is especially popular with the knights after a successful fight and the following celebration.

"Gwen, about earlier," Morgana begins after downing the foul-tasting gunk.

"I'm incredibly sorry, my lady. I had no idea I would be intruding on something so private. The mistake is all mine," Gwen gushes, her cheeks turning pink.

" _Gwen,"_ the king's ward interrupts. "It's quite alright. I'm sorry you had to see that. I just – this won't get between us, will it? I know that my choice of… _bed-mate_ is not generally accepted." Morgana watches the other woman carefully.

For the second time that day, Gwen's eyes widen. "No! Of course not, my lady. You can bed whomever you wish – it's none of my business," she insists.

Relief floods Morgana's body, and she smiles. The smile quickly dims, though. "Gwen, can I ask you to keep this between us?" She feels a pang of guilt for asking the girl to keep a secret, but they both know it wouldn't do to have it get out.

Gwen smiles. "Of course."

* * *

The fourth time is both utterly unexpected and completely obvious. Morgana wakes from one of her many nightmares, kicking and screaming, half hysterical and howling bits of words. It's the worst one she's had in a long time.

Her heart is hammering in her chest, sweat and tears are mingling on her face, and wordless cries rip from her throat against her will. Someone's touching her arms, trying to grab her flailing wrists, and she shouts louder and more frantically, and tries her best to defend herself with weak and shaking limbs.

"Morgana! Morgana, it's me. It's Gwen," her attacker – why are they speaking so gently? – tells her firmly but warmly. Morgana's motions get less defiant, and she starts to question herself. Where is she? Is she still dreaming? Who is this person and why is she fighting them? _Is she safe?_

Her hesitance allows the person to lock her wrists in the air. The hands are strong and calloused, but not like those of a man. A working girl, maybe?

"Shh, Morgana. You're alright. You're safe," the person soothes. "It was just a dream."

The haze is clearing, bit by bit, and then Morgana becomes aware. She's in her chambers and she's not dreaming. Gwen's got her and she's as safe as can be.

Some fear lingers, but the majority is locked away again until the next time.

Morgana's shoulders slump, and she grabs the maid's arms, seeking out whatever comfort she can gain. "Gwen," she breathes. "God, it felt so real."

"It wasn't," Gwen tells her, looking right into fearful green eyes. Morgana's wrists are free, and the maid's hands are rubbing her arms softly. "It wasn't real, Morgana."

The king's ward exhales, and then tips forward and pulls Gwen into a tight hug. Gwen can feel the woman trembling against her, and her heart breaks. She can't recall ever seeing Morgana more upset, and it's more than a little disconcerting.

They stay like that for a long time, until Morgana stops quaking and yawns into the crook of Gwen's neck.

"Ready to sleep again?" Gwen asks gently.

Morgana just presses her warm lips to Gwen's neck chastely, but not lacking in emotion. "You're so good to me, Gwen. I don't know why you put up with me." Her voice is small – so different from the strong, haughty voice the rest of the city hear all the time.

"Because it's my job," the brunette says simply, not at all phased by the kiss, or the second one that Morgana plants on her clavicle. "And because you're my favourite person." She almost says 'best friend' but she knows that Morgana has been much more than that to her for a while now.

The other woman pulls away, hands still resting behind Gwen's neck. Wet emerald eyes are swimming with emotion, as if Morgana can't believe that she's someone's favourite person. Gwen realises that it's likely very few people have told Morgana they love her; everyone's either too busy or only in love with the _idea_ of Morgana.

With a cautious look, Morgana leans in again and presses a gentle kiss to Gwen's lips. It's a bit damp and Gwen can taste the saltiness of tears on her lips, but her gut tingles and her chest glows, like her heart is actually growing and warming in her chest.

Morgana pulls back briefly to gauge Gwen's reaction. She gets her answer in the form of Gwen leaning in and kissing her back.

When they part, Morgana breathes, "Stay?"

Gwen nods and smiles softly.

When they're curled up under the blankets together, Morgana thinks about where they might go next. She knows they're going to have to hide whatever they have, but somehow, it doesn't seem so bad when there's two of them.

* * *

The four of them fit together rather well. They're a bit mismatched – no one would have expected a prince, the king's ward, and their respective servants would become so closely knit – but it's in the best possible way.

They make a good team and there are no secrets. It's a relief to no longer have to hide their strong, brave hearts in the dark, especially when they've all found the one who makes their heart burn and glow brighter than ever.

They're gathered in a blooming part of the forest, Morgana sitting against an old tree with Gwen resting between her knees, and Merlin sprawled on the ground, Arthur draped over him. The cool night wind blows, but no one's cold because they're all half drunk on the best wine Gwen and Merlin could get hold of. They laugh about stupid things and tell ridiculous stories. Morgana's fingers trail through Gwen's hair absently, occasionally placing a delicate wildflower in dark curls. Arthur bickers with Merlin until he's cut off with a kiss or a playful punch on the shoulder.

All of them know they have to get back to regular life the next day, but for tonight and hopefully most other nights, they can laugh and kiss and not worry about class, gender, or any other social standard.

The first time being out and proud with people she isn't intimate with is a midnight gathering in the forest with her girlfriend, her idiot brother, his equally idiotic but lovable boyfriend, and a lot of wine. Morgana thinks it's a rather nice experience – much nicer than all the hiding she's done for far too long. It's something she could get used to, and she hopes she'll have a chance to.


End file.
